if you were the ocean, i'd learn to float
by affability
Summary: If she knew she'd be this broken, she would have never let him in her life. Finn/Santana, torn into pieces.


**if you were the ocean, i'd learn to float  
><strong>finn/santana, torn into pieces.

**a/n**: since f/s has been cancelled by the producers, i guess hoping for relationship development is out of the question now. i wrote this while mourning for the complete loss of this amazing couple, and i absolutely cannot stand finchel anymore. i used to think it was all right, but now it's just straight up _annoying. _never mind, ignore my rant, and enjoy my f/s piece. title belongs to _all i want is you _by barry louis polisar, and everything i mention here belongs to its rightful owners. the words in italics are pieced together from my own poems.

.

_you don't need to believe in magic to believe in us,_

_the sun rays hit your face and that's all it takes._

.

She laughs a little dazedly, her fingertips on the edge of the table, the angelic rhythm entering his ears. He looks up and he begins to see the sparkles dripping from her olive-crisp skin, her eyelashes fluttering; a broken princess in a black dress.

Her eyes are wet and her mascara trails down the corner of her eye slightly, but he thinks she still looks as beautiful as ever. He stares at her in anticipation as she leans on her elbow, chewing on her lower lip.

"Imagine something being made of glass, and if there's a crack, just one little crack, it breaks down," she says, and he has to furrow his eyebrows together in confusion as he tries to process what she says. She rolls her eyes, scoffing, raising her eyebrow challengingly, waiting for him to say something, _anything_.

"Sometimes, I pretend that it's easier," he says, even though he doesn't really know what he's saying.

She slurs over, the bitter taste of medicine on her chapped lips. "I hate pretending." She says, her voice dripping with an undetectable emotion and colored with venom. "It sucks."

He meets her gaze. "I know."

.

He could love her, he concludes, if she wasn't so broken and didn't hide the cracks under her foundation so effortlessly. Every time he kisses her, he feels her despair clinging onto his world and making his insides splitter and break until he's not entirely whole anymore.

She breaks him. She builds walls just as well as she breaks them. Whenever he looks into her eyes, he sees stars, dying and breaking, and she's nothing but a black hole, sucking anything and everything into her and destroying it.

He gets consumed.

She grabs the collar of his shirt, and then she pulls him closer and kisses him, and she's clinging onto him so badly that it's almost as if she's _afraid_ that he'll let go.

He wraps his arms around her waist, but she pulls apart from him, and when he looks into her deeply brown eyes, he realizes that she's not bad; she just wants someone to want her back.

She snuggles into his shirt, breathing in his scent, and feeling cracks forming under her foundation, and she's losing just a little bit more of herself as she lifts her chin and roughly plants her lips onto his again. He reciprocates, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Her lips graze against his, and he can feel the exhilaration of her heartbeat.

.

He breathes _I love you_ against her lips.

She wonders if it's okay to say it back.

.

Finn discovers that it's easier to tell Santana he loves her than he thought. Because, she doesn't break his arm like he expects her to, and even though she doesn't say it back, he can see it in her eyes and in her smile whenever he tells her.

Santana also tells him maybe that she loves him back, but it comes out soft and blubbered and he can't really catch it, because she knows deep inside of her that it's too hard for her. Her heart is too jagged and too raw and will rub anyone that gets too close.

Maybe he can change that.

.

She smiles at him - her beautifully colored brown eyes glimmer gorgeously under lighting, he notices, and he loves how her eyes light up whenever she smiles. He can tell there's nothing underlying it, because there's no trace of evil in her voice and there's not even a hint of a smirk on her lips.

She smiles because he calls her beautiful, not _hot_, for the first time and kisses her when she's caught off-guard. Who knew Finn Hudson had a romantic side? She thinks, but she doesn't complain.

.

Santana crashes over at his house during most summer nights, and she keeps him up late with old reruns of _Gossip Girl_and the replaying of her favorite movies, including _Dirty Dancing_.

And he laughs and smiles whenever she sings along to the songs, or taps her feet against the rug whenever they start dancing, because he knows she wants so badly to dance along. When _I've Had the Time of My Life_ comes on, she says, quietly, "That should have been us singing it."

His face lights up just the teeniest bit. "Yeah, it's should have."

.

It's during the middle of summer he takes her out, and they're swimming under the hot sun and he's splashing water in her face, and she's threatening to end him and she proceeds to laugh when she trips him when they're walking.

He likes it when she laughs - it sounds like a chime, and it rings in his ears and makes him smile to himself just for a while, and he likes it when her hand brushes against him and loosely intertwines with his fingers.

"I like it, here," she says, softly, quietly, her eyes shimmering under the moonlight.

He kisses her unexpectedly, wrapping his arms around her, holding her closer. She breathes out slowly, color flashing in the insides of her eyelids and replacing the black and white edges that haunt her.

.

He looks at her, really looks at her, through the facade and into who she really is. All he sees is a girl, with cracks under her foundation and eyelids watering with unwanted tears, with lies scattered beneath her feet, with secrets haunting her, with fears of falling in love.

She feels the tears slick down her cheeks when everyone's asleep and no one can see her.

.

She's not really surprised when he doesn't have a clean breakup with Rachel, but she's still shocked when he decides to spend his Saturdays sprawled on his couch with her, watching TV.

"I thought you loved Rachel," she says quietly, eyeballing him. "Why did you choose to spend your Saturdays with me instead?"

He stays silent.

.

In his head, there used to be a picture of a girl who wears sweaters with animals on them and knee-high socks, who sings like an angel and smiles all the time. And her name used to ring in his ears and he used to feel sparkles whenever he kissed her.

Now, all he sees is a girl who can't hide her cracks anymore, because they're too raw and too rough, and she can't stop the pain from showing because her tank's already full. Her name rings in his ears and he sees gray and black and white whenever he kisses her, but there's still a ray of hope that hasn't burned out yet.

He thinks maybe she could love him, too.

.

The freezing drops of rainwater drip down her olive-tanned skin, drench her white tank top and short shorts, slick down her already wet cheeks, and she's thankful that she wore waterproof mascara earlier because as she shows up at his house.

As she waits for the door to open, she looks around and glances at the rainwater pummelling against the windowpane, blasting on the streets, and frosting the window. She feels as if she could cry and he wouldn't even notice, because her cheeks are already wet.

So, she lets the tears leave her eyes and track down her cheeks as Finn opens the door and stares at her, mouth ajar, and she somehow finds the words to explain the situation. "I... I don't know where else to go," she says, the words coming out between her chattering teeth.

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her inside, and then he gets her a cup of hot chocolate and wraps a towel around her shoulders.

He stares at her when night falls, brushes her freshly washed hair backwards, and she's wearing one of his old sweatshirts and one of her old short shorts. She breathes in his scent, and then she looks up at him, meeting his gaze.

If she knew she'd be this broken, she would have never let him in her life. But she can't seem to stop breaking him, and herself. She loves him too much. And suddenly, a small part of herself realizes that it's time for her to finally admit it.

"I love you," she utters, softly, closing her eyes, and when she opens them he leans forward and his lips crashes into hers. He intertwines their fingers, and then he breathes against her lips, "_I love you, too_."

.

_and maybe, before the storm calms down,_

_your smile will glide and you'll brighten the town._

.


End file.
